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Guruzilla's /var/log/knowledge-junkie
["the chatter of a missionary sysadmin"]

2003-01-06 5:30 PM
snow, snow, snow away, snow again some other day

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Mood:
weary

{ Now playing: starflyer 59, "one shot juanita"; Cranberries, "Linger"; Histeria! theme; Denison Marrs, "Twilight Eyelight"; [x-mace mp3 playlist, shuffled]

Recent movie: Gojira no Gyakushu ("Godzilla Raids Again", subbed)****

Current books: II Tim.; GURPS handbooks; Conrad Schirokauer, A Brief History of Chinese and Japanese Civilizations; Sean Russell, Beneath the Vaulted Hills; I Jn. (tr.)

}

Comfortably inside, and warm, snow is a glorious thing. I suspect later I'll point the digital camera at it again, and take much the same pictures as I did last year. Something about snow, I think, gives the sense of continuous weather, of a vast field of it covering everything, blanketing, (like a field of cliches!), with a soft inexorable domination. Nicely, it covers over the work done with in earlier in the day, dusting down, like sand but without all that earthiness, a swift haze through the air on its way down.

Maybe part of it is the contrasts against the snow which light up to me now, as I look out and reflect. The snow is a single field, resting on eveything in view. Where is it shaded, there is its contrast, but whatever is doing the shading, is itself receiving snowfall. Come to think of it, I wonder why more landscape artists don't do snowfall scenes. Of course, this all may seem more sensible, more important, while mildly feverish and sleepy, but I've spent my first day more or less awake in a long, slowly-snowing day, and now dusk is slipping away on me.

One of the things I did today, besides saving the windows of the last apartment, was send out various e-mails to people, in which I reach out and poke the universe, and see what happens. Opening up, over-extending myself, and moving forward, seem to be the minor themes of the day. On the last, I'm reminded of another minor venture to be undertaken: registration for language lessons. (No, sir, parsing that as a reference to Better Off Dead, while admittedly not prima facie impossible, cannot be construed as "funny" in the context. Two minutes in the box for you!)

Now, as darkness comes ("darkness always comes"), the wind is picking up, and possibly the flurries as well, though it's hard to tell, once it starts moving sideways. Vespertime has arrived, accompanied by glowering music, and I'll make tea in my darkened house, and try to re-commit to memory these words:

Phos hilaron

O gracious light,

pure brightness of the everliving Father in heaven,

O Jesus Christ, holy and blessed!

Now as we come to the setting of the sun,

and our eyes behold the vesper light,

we sing your praises, O God: Father, Son, and Holy Spirit.

You are worthy at all times to be praised by happy voices,

O Son of God, O Giver of Life,

and to be glorified through all the worlds.

oi! and here I''ve forgotten it's Epiphany! whoops... still, hooray for major feast days, and their liturgies.

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